


All I Ever Wanted

by collectingnames



Series: My Miracle (fjorclay collection) [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Thinking About the Future, Yearning, basically that's what it is, fantasy jet lag, fjorclay, soft, spoilers up to ep83
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 07:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collectingnames/pseuds/collectingnames
Summary: Fjord’s internal clock is still in the process of readjusting to the Prime Material Plan after their excursion through the Folding Halls of Halas.  They’d lost weeks in there and while they never really keep normal hours, to begin with now there’s usually at least one member of the Nein bored and wandering through the halls of the Xhorhaus looking for some way to stay occupied.  Tonight that’s Fjord.-----------------------Aka the one where Fjord yearns a lot





	All I Ever Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> If Cad could carry Fjord with 10 str, Fjord can carry Cad with 13 str

Fjord’s internal clock is still in the process of readjusting to the Prime Material Plan after their excursion through the Folding Halls of Halas. They’d lost weeks in there and while they never really keep normal hours, to begin with now there’s usually at least one member of the Nein bored and wandering through the halls of the Xhorhaus looking for some way to stay occupied. Tonight that’s Fjord.

He makes his way downstairs into the lab. Not for any real reason. Nothing deeper than the fact that there’s probably something down there suitably interesting enough to hold his attention until he can fall asleep. He’s not not _ planning _on touching anything that could fuck him up, but sometimes shiny red buttons happen. Soft snoring barely registers in his ears once he makes it almost all of the way down. Who? He pokes his head into the lab and as expected it’s empty but the snoring is closer now, close enough that he can recognize who it is.

There’s a goofy, loving smile on his face, he knows it has to be there by that rush of fondness in his heart when he enters the adjoining library and finds Caduceus slumped forward onto the table, fast asleep. One cheek pressed flat against the book that’s unceremoniously been reassigned the task of a pillow. The messy bun meant to keep his hair out of his face while he reads is half undone and riddled with bedhead by now.

He chuckles to himself in a whisper and checks to see what he was reading, “What’s so interesting, Ducey?”

He recognizes it as the book on the gods that Caleb brought back from Uthodurn for him. Doesn’t try and slide it out from underneath his head in case suddenly hitting his head against the wood might wake him up. Though he notices a scrap of parchment tucked inside as a bookmark. He plucks it free from its place and recognizes Caduceus’ chicken scratch.

_ The Changebringer? _

_ The Everlight? _

_ The Allhammer? _

But in the end, all three names are scribbled out and at the bottom of the parchment is another note, still in his chicken scratch. “_ He found Melora. He was interested in her before but, I don’t know. I thought he might end up following someone else. He always surprises me… _” He’d been researching other gods for him? Before they even finished reforging the StarRazor? He can practically see and hear that warm, scrunched-up-eyes smile from Caduceus that comes with the slightest content rumble upon reading the final line.

“Alright, Big Guy, let’s get you to bed,” he whispers to himself and scoops Caduceus up into his arms, bridal style. Does his best not to notice that now the book is flipped open to an excerpt from some obscure text about Tharizdun.

Carrying Caduceus up the narrow stairwell proves difficult but he’s too stubborn to give up. His awkward shuffling to keep Caduceus from hitting his head against the walls is slow going but he makes it to the top and has a much quicker time of it getting to the tower. 

He makes it up through the trapdoor, his muscles starting to protest at this point and make his way over to Caduceus’ makeshift bed under the tree, pulls one of the blankets free so he can drape it over him. Fjord can’t help but give himself a moment to just gaze down at him lovingly, admiring the way his pale lashes catch the lights strung across the canopy. His face is so relaxed, enough that the heavy bags under his eyes come into sharp focus. _ Gods, he’s beautiful _. This is all he wants, more than he would ever hope to ask for. Just these fleeting moments of domesticity. What he would give to fuck off to some warm seaside cottage with him where they’ll never have to worry about this stuff again. Of course, he would have to tell him first. He will, he doesn’t know when but he will. One day he’ll just spit out every last thing his heart wants to tell Caduceus.

Before he can get too lost in this tired internal ramblings about a life where he wakes up in Caduceus’s arms, or maybe the other way around, he gives Caduceus a quick peck on the forehead, “_ love you, Ducey _.”

Fjord tucks back some of the hair that’s come loose from the bun behind his ear and reluctantly makes his legs carry him back to the trapdoor. If he were back at the Menagerie Coast he would be able to see the earliest streaking lights of dawn weakly lighting the wall. Once back in his own bed he lies there looking up at the ceiling. His mind conjures up images of the two of them lounging on the beach, their toes in the surf. Caduceus is just so - he’s - he’s Caduceus. He’s wise and beautiful and he’s a steadfast presence in the chaos. What he would give to know how this all ends. To know if Caduceus sees right through him and is just waiting for him to make the first move. Fjord finally drifts into sleep as dawn hits Xhorhas.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A knock on the door as it starts to swing open wakes him up, “Good morning, sleep well last night?” Caduceus enters with two steaming teacups, one in each hand. 

Fjord blearily sits up in bed, taking the offered tea with his eyes half-closed when Caduceus sits down on the bed at his feet, “Tea?”

The corners of Caduceus’ mouth tick up in a smile from behind his teacup, “As thanks for getting me back to bed last night.”

“It was nothing,” he takes a long sip and notices the minty flavor to the brew.

He wants to reach out and tangle his fingers with Caduceus’ free hand where it rests on the sheets. Instead, he takes a long sip of his tea, warm enough to feel it in his chest as it goes down. Sitting there together on his bed, not saying much, just content in each other’s company and the tea, Fjord thinks about the future again. Those cheesy little fantasies of the future he can’t help but feel a little juvenile for having. With hope, there’s still going to be a future. 


End file.
